He Sees
by sablecain
Summary: On the emotional anniversary of his family’s death, Chris learns something about Ezra that he’d never imagined
1. Chapter 1

Well, Geocities has decided to close down, so--I've decided to upload my older m7 stories here. All the stories are complete of course and most I'll post in parts (one or two daily). I won't upload them all at once or anything so it won't come at anyone like a giant wave of spam! Hope you enjoy them.

He Sees

written in July 2001

Disclaimer: The characters of the Magnificent 7 belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch. No profit is being made off this story.

Unfortunately--I don't even remember where the 'verses' came from!

* * *

There's a place in this world for a Gambler  
There's a burden that only he can bear  
There's a place in this world for a Gambler  
And he sees…oh yes he sees…  
And he sees…oh yes he sees…

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Ezra watched quietly from his corner of the saloon. The dimly lit interior casting long shadows around him though he knew that the others were aware of his presence. His hand gripped at the small glass in front of him, it's amber liquid tempting him as he swirled it dangerously close to the rim.

"Go away!" The angry shout came from across the room as one figure staggered and pushed at another.

"I'm just trying to help you is all," the other responded with frustration as he reached again for his friend.

"Don't want your help," the first hissed and shoved harder, remarkably coordinated for as much alcohol as he'd consumed.

"Fine then." Buck caught himself before slamming into a nearby table. He glanced up and caught Ezra watching the scene play out. "Maybe I should just punch him like usual." He sagged wearily into a chair near the gambler, his eyes back on Chris.

"Leave him be, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said softly.

Buck looked at him with surprise. "You want me to just leave him here? It ain't safe!" He shook his head, "for anybody."

"I'll see to him."

"Ezra, you are about the last person he can put up with right now."

Ezra smiled, grimly acknowledging the truth behind Buck's words and ignoring the slight sting that accompanied them. "Trust me, for a change," he replied  
calmly.

"You don't understand," Wilmington tried one more time.

"I assure you I do. It's an anniversary, is it not?"

Buck nodded and wiped at his mustache, his eyes filling with moisture suddenly. "Y-yeah it is."

"Then go and seek your own comfort."

At Ezra's tone, Buck's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive, Mr. Wilmington. No harm will come to either of us, now go."

Buck hesitated again for a moment, his eyes roaming from Ezra to Chris before he rose and with a nod, left the building.

Larabee sat, half slumped in his chair, his focus on the empty bottle in front of him. The door banged closed behind Wilmington and Chris glanced at it, then at the bottle before shoving away from the table and staggering a few steps towards the bar. He smiled as his searching fingers wrapped around the neck of a full bottle of whiskey.

"Are you positive you want another bottle?" The look aimed in his direction was almost enough to make Ezra wish he hadn't told Buck to leave.

"What's it to you?" Chris growled, stepping closer. "Thought I told you to leave."

Ezra huffed. "That was Mr. Wilmington and if you can no longer distinguish the difference, you really don't need to imbibe any further."

Chris grimaced and waved him away. "Shut up and go away."

"My apologies but I'm not going anywhere," Ezra intoned calmly.

"Why not? Everybody else cleared out of here," Chris pointed out as he wrenched the cork stopper out of his new bottle. "Might as well join them." He took a long drink and coughed when his reflexes weren't fast enough to swallow as much as he wanted. His eyes watered as he caught his breath.

"Maybe I'm not like everyone else," Ezra said simply.

"That's the truth." Chris' drunken contempt was obvious but Standish ignored the barb as Chris stumbled closer. "I don't want company, sure as hell don't need you so get out," he ordered, his blue-green eyes flashing angrily.

"Pushing everyone away and drowning yourself in drink isn't going to make the pain go away," Ezra voice was soft. He sat perfectly still, save for the movement of his left hand as his thumb and little finger nervously twisted at the gold band on his ring finger.

Chris stood still a moment, his eyes fixed on Ezra before he suddenly burst into a blur of violence. The whiskey bottle crashed against the wall next to them, exploding and sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Ezra barely had time to feel the piece that nicked him just above the eyebrow when the table in front of him went one direction and his glass of bourbon another. Larabee pulled him up by the lapels and pushed him back, knocking the chair over and under him. His legs tangled in the rungs as he struggled to maintain his footing. His hands clutched desperately at Chris' shirt unconsciously mirroring the grip that the gunslinger had on him.

Ezra felt the wall behind him and then Chris pulled him forward slightly before slamming him hard against the rough wooden planks. His head bounced painfully as Chris roared in his face, "What do you know?" and slammed him again. "Answer me damn it! What the hell do you know about how I feel right now?" Larabee hissed demandingly, the liquor on his breath adding to Ezra's sudden nausea.

Standish forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly against the blood that dripped annoyingly around his left eye. He met Chris' harsh gaze without flinching and for once in a long while allowed some of the pain of his own past to show. He waited until he saw the surprise and recognition in Larabee's eyes before stating softly… "Everything."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to NT for she is the Queen of finding things. She found where the lyrics are from_

_The song is by Dan Fogelberg, "There's a Place in the World for a Gamber"_

* * *

There's a song in the heart of a woman  
That only the truest love can release  
There's a song in the heart of a woman  
Set it free…oh set it free…  
Set it free…oh set it free…

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"Oh God." Larabee seemed to crumble in front of him and seeing as neither man had released their grip on the other, they slid to the floor together. Slowly Ezra pulled away from Chris' grip and leaned back against the wall to steady himself. Both men were breathing heavily; the sounds of their gasps seemed to echo in the empty room.

"You're bleeding," Chris pointed out, his voice not much above a whisper.

"Yeah." Ezra moved slowly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He frowned at ruining such perfect material but pressed it against the bleeding cut anyway. He inhaled sharply, his eyes closing at the pain. When he opened them again Chris was staring at him intently, studying his left hand. It took a moment to realize that Larabee was looking at his ring.

"Tell me," the gunslinger stated, but Ezra could hear the underlying request…the please. It took him a minute to go there-to cross the barriers he'd painstakingly built around his memory, the defenses that kept him from living each day with crippling grief.

His chuckle contradicted his emotion and he shifted his legs out in front of him before taking a deep breath and starting. "She hated me." He smiled as Chris raised an eyebrow, but went on before he could ask. "First time we met she called me a 'good for nothing scoundrel' and slapped me."

Chris laughed softly as he moved beside the gambler, both men sitting now with their backs to the wall. It was easier to talk and listen without having to look at each other.

"She'd taken one look at me and my fancy clothes and fine airs and decided right then that she wanted nothing to do with me."

"And you?" Chris asked.

Ezra smiled. "Well, I was smitten by then of course. Her eyes were brown with flecks the color of copper and they matched her hair perfectly. When I looked into those eyes, even when she slapped me, I swear I could see the goodness of her soul." He paused and swallowed painfully, wishing suddenly that Chris hadn't smashed that bottle of whiskey. "I wore her down," he admitted almost sheepishly. "I think she finally agreed to have dinner with me just to get me to go away."

"What happened then?" Larabee's voice was low and thick.

"Well, I charmed her of course," Ezra grinned and glanced at his friend. "It was like a dream come true for me, as cliché-ish as that sounds, finding someone like that." His voice grew quieter as he went on. "Someone who wanted to know everything there was to know about me and for once in my life I wasn't afraid to share." He felt Chris shift awkwardly beside him but couldn't look this time. "She accepted all of it, all of me and it was like I'd finally found 'my' place."

"You get married then?" Chris asked.

Ezra smiled faintly and nodded, bringing his hand down from his forehead and looking at the wedding band. "She ordered this herself and was so excited when it arrived, she could barely keep from giving it to me right then." He ran a finger over the metal, remembering the day she'd placed it on his finger while vowing to be his 'from this day forth'. "I promised her I'd never take it off," he whispered brokenly.

The saloon was darker now, as the oil lamps began to dim. Chris wanted to know more, wanted to ask what had happened to the woman who had been Ezra's wife but he couldn't find his voice.

"I liked being married." Ezra finally broke the stillness. "That alone surprised me, shocked the hell out of mother."

Chris couldn't hold back a laugh at that.

"About four months after our wedding," Ezra breathed deeply and Chris recognized the signs that the hardest part to share was coming next. "Lydia realized that she was expecting."

Larabee closed his eyes, his head tilted back to rest against the wall as he listened.

"She was so excited…again," Ezra glanced at him. "You know how JD gets when he's worked up about something he deems important?"

Chris smiled, "yeah."

"Lydia was a lot like that…a lot."

Chris stared at Standish then, realizing that the man dealt inwardly with those similarities every day. As much as he looked at JD and saw the potential for what could have been with Adam, Ezra saw the same youthful exuberance that he'd once seen in his wife.

"She'd sing all the time to the baby, said she was positive he could hear her…us. She was determined it was a boy."

Chris nodded knowingly, "Sarah used to do the same. You were a father then?" He asked tentatively, unsure as to how to proceed.

Ezra shook his head, and Chris caught a glimpse of his watery green eyes as the Southerner answered. "Yes, and no…I don't know." He shrugged and explained. "Baby came early, a boy just like Lydia said. He lived an hour." Ezra's whisper broke.

"And Lydia?" Chris prodded gently, knowing that at this point the heart-wrenching story needed to be finished.

"She died later that day, doctor said she was just too frail and the labor too hard."

Chris groaned, able to remember his own fear and worry when it was time for Adam's birth.

"It was for the best I guess, that they went together," Ezra choked and stumbled on the words. "I don't know that Lydia would have been able to go on without him, she was strong but…"

"How long's it been?"

"Four years this September." Ezra's accent thickened as he struggled to control his voice. "They were my everything," he added wearily.

In the quiet of the deserted saloon, the two men sat, unmoving. Chris didn't ask how Standish had been able to move on without his family, he knew the man well enough to know that Ezra was a master at burying his hurts. Sobered by his friend's revelations, Chris couldn't figure out if he was actually thankful to have someone else to share his pain with or horrified,  
or both.

Caught in his own memories Ezra hadn't realized his cut had started to bleed again until Chris took the bloody silk rag from his hand and pressed his own clean cotton bandana in it's place. Larabee picked up Ezra's hand and held it and the cloth against the wound until Ezra blinked with awareness and began to tend to the cut himself. Their eyes met a moment and an unspoken understanding passed between them before they looked away again and simply sat together in the growing darkness.

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

the conclusion...

* * *

There's a light in the depths of your darkness  
There's a calm at the eye of the storm  
There's a light in the depths of your darkness  
Let it shine…oh let it shine  
Let it shine…oh let it shine  
Let it shine…oh let it shine  
Let it shine

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The saloon darkened slowly until only one lamp remained lit. Neither of the peacekeepers moved to light another, both too caught up in their own thoughts.

Chris stared, amazed by the power of one tiny flame to cut through the thick darkness around them. It didn't light the entire room, but it was enough to split the night, enough to open his eyes and let him see what was close to him.

He glanced at Ezra but the Southerner had his eyes closed now, lost in another time. Chris never would have imagined that Ezra had been a husband, or a father for that matter and he knew that Ezra *had* been a father, if only for an hour.

Chris had seen the ring before; he was observant enough in that right, but in his mind it had always just been part of the Ezra Standish package. It was part of the conman's presentation and Chris had never considered that there was any real meaning behind it. Now, every time he saw the gold band he'd be reminded of what the two of them had in common. Every time he saw the glint of the sun's rays reflect off it as Ezra shuffled his cards or fought beside him, or pulled back on the reigns of his horse…every time now, he would see and he would remember.

Larabee wondered suddenly how many times Ezra had watched him come apart, losing control of his anger and thought less of him for it.

"It's not the same, really," Ezra spoke in the soft glow of the lone oil lamp, his eyes opening and fixing on Chris as if he was able to read his mind.

"What isn't?" Chris asked hoarsely. "We both lost."

"The loss may be similar," Ezra nodded, "but the circumstances were not," he pointed out gently.

"Don't make the pain any less," Chris answered honestly.

Ezra didn't respond, his emotions too raw and too close to the surface but Chris understood. Standish didn't judge or compare Chris' grief to his own, he just understood.

Chris didn't know when he'd closed his eyes, or slept but when he opened them again the saloon was bathed in the gray light of early morning. He heard them coming before they reached the entrance, their voices carrying in the cool morning air. He shifted, and his muscles protested their abuse. His head throbbed lightly from the after affects of too much whiskey.

Glancing at Ezra, he chuckled seeing the Southerner's slumped position. They'd be hearing Standish moan about missing his feather bed for the rest of the day.

"I can't believe you left them alone like that!" Nathan, Chris identified as he wiped a hand over his face, trying to clear away the fog of sleep.

"Ezra said they'd be fine, said he'd handle everything," Buck protested.

There was a disbelieving snort from someone and Chris heard Josiah say, "It's awfully quiet in there."

"Wonder if either of them are still alive?" JD asked.

"Didn't hear no gunshots last night," Vin pointed out.

"That don't mean much," Nathan stated angrily as the outer door was flung open and five anxious men poured into the room, Josiah leading the pack.

Chris watched quietly while they scanned the room, searching for answers. Vin spotted him and began making his way towards them just as the others caught sight of the wreckage.

"Damn." Buck let out a low whistle.

Vin focused on the crunching glass beneath his boots just long enough to kick it out of the path and squatted in front of Chris. "Everything okay here, Cowboy?"

"Fine." Chris' voice sounded grainy.

"Question is how's Ezra?" Josiah asked as Nathan pushed around him and knelt beside the Southerner, carefully avoiding the glass.

"He's asleep," Chris said.

"That should be 'was asleep,' Mr. Larabee," Standish half growled as he shifted and groaned, "how anyone can possibly sleep through this amount of noise is beyond me." His green eyes flickered open.

"What happened?" Nathan asked, leaning in to check the cut above his eye.

Ezra waved a hand lazily in explanation, "a piece of glass."

"Chris do that?" JD asked curiously, oblivious to the look of warning from Buck.

Ezra looked up and shook his head, ignoring the dizziness, "No, Mr. Dunne, I believe the culprit was a flying whiskey bottle, or parts of it anyway." He winced as Nathan prodded the wound.

"We need to get that cleaned up," the healer pointed out. "Make sure I don't need to stitch it up at all."

Ezra frowned but nodded.

"You hurt anywhere else?" Jackson asked.

Ezra began to shake his head no but Chris interrupted. "He banged his head pretty good on the wall…twice." If anyone detected the chagrin in Larabee's tone, they didn't say anything.

Immediately Nathan's long, agile fingers were ghosting over Ezra's head, searching for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Nathan." Ezra pulled away, voicing his agitation. "If someone would just be kind enough to assist me off the floor?"

Josiah stepped forward. "Sure thing, Brother." He grasped Ezra's wrist and pulled him easily to his feet. "Let's get you over to Nate's room."

Standish glanced back at Chris a moment, their eyes meeting briefly before he simply nodded, "Mr. Larabee, Gentlemen," and hobbled stiffly after Nathan and Josiah.

Vin watched the silent exchange and then held out a hand to help Chris up. Larabee grabbed his forearm and grunted as he came to his feet.

"You need Nathan for anything?" Tanner asked as Buck and JD righted the table and chair.

Chris shook his head, "no, just stiff."

"Better get the broom, JD. We need to get this cleaned up before Inez gets here or we're all in trouble." Buck grinned and pushed JD lightly in the direction of the back room before he turned to Chris and Vin. "Glad to see you didn't destroy the entire place," he kidded.

Chris shrugged and turned the action into a stretch.

"Left Ezra alive too." Vin smiled.

"Yeah well…" Chris shrugged again.

"So what happened?" JD returned carrying a broom. He stopped in surprise when Chris took it from him and started sweeping at the glass.

"Nothing much," Chris answered as he focused on the floor. He knew that answer wouldn't satisfy JD's curiosity so he added, "just talked."

JD had learned enough in his dealing with Larabee to recognize when a subject was closed so he nodded in acceptance.

"Come on, Kid." Tanner patted Chris once on the back and ushered JD towards the door, "we'll keep watch for Inez."

Buck was debating whether or not he should join them when Chris' voice stopped him.

"Sorry about last night."

Buck grinned. "It's okay, I understood."

"You were just trying to help."

Buck's eyes grew serious and his voice lowered. "Yeah I was, glad Ezra seemed to be able to though."

Chris knew his old friend was curious but he also knew he'd never break Ezra's confidence. If the gambler wanted the others to know about his past then he would tell them in his own time.

"How'd he get you to calm down and listen anyway?" Buck asked, moving out of the way as Chris brushed the debris towards the door.

Larabee paused beside a table and ran his fingers lightly over the lamp in the center. "Just talked," he answered finally, looking up and smiling at his friend, "and showed me some things I needed to see."

* * *

Coming soon...the sequel 'He Understands'


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